


Sucker Love

by motorcitydreams



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean is a kinky little asshole, Ficlet, Gen, Light Angst, M/M, Masturbation, Pining Sam, Pre-Series, Stanford Era, Unsuspecting Sam, Voyeurism, Wincest Love Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-12-18 22:55:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11884569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/motorcitydreams/pseuds/motorcitydreams
Summary: Dean was fully aware of his current location and how wrong it was for him to be there. After all, Sam had made it clear when he'd stormed out a year and a half ago, never to look back, that he wanted nothing to do with the Winchester name. But Dean's long accepted that when it comes to Sammy, he just can't let go.





	Sucker Love

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of the ficlets I wrote for Wincest Love Week over on Tumblr. Title comes from the Placebo song "Every You Every Me." Cornier than I intended it to be, but otherwise, I'm happy with it. Hope you enjoy and thank you for reading!

Dean was full aware of his current location and how wrong it was for him to be there. After all, Sam had made it clear when he'd stormed out a year and a half ago, never to look back, that he wanted nothing to do with the Winchester name. Dean expected that anger for John, but what had he done wrong? He'd tried to stay out of his Dad and Sammy's fights for the most part, because when they were fighting there was no point in trying to defuse the situation. They were both far too stubborn and headstrong to listen to him, and besides, Dean didn't want to take sides. 

Maybe that was the problem. Maybe he had been too complacent, to the point where Sam felt that nobody has his back. Even so, that was hardly a reason to pick up and move halfway across the country. The hunting life had always been one that Sam had resisted and fought against, tooth and nail, but there was no denying that it was part of his blood, and it didn't matter if he went to college, became a lawyer, got married, and had a couple of rugrats. Sooner or later, he would be brought back into the fold. The pull would be too strong to ignore, and Dean knew that. And when that day came, he wouldn't gloat (though he felt he would be well within his rights to do so, after Sammy had so callously ditched him without an explanation). He would be by Sam's side, as always, ready to die for him.

As it currently stood, however, Dean was just sitting in the parking lot of Sam's dorm room, being a Creepy McCreeperton. He'd been working up the courage to just get the hell out of the car already and pay Sam a visit for the past fifteen minutes, and wasn't that just atypical Dean Winchester behavior—being afraid. It was almost laughable—he could take down the baddest monsters out there and nearly get his ass kicked in the process—yet he was still afraid of his little brother. But then again, Sammy had always held this strange power over Dean. He could ask Dean to kill for him and Dean wouldn't even blink an eye. He wouldn't think twice; he'd do it if it meant keeping Sammy safe and happy.

The devotion he had for Sam frightened him sometimes.

A soft noise cut through Dean's thoughts and he realized with a start that it was a moan. He opened the car door and stuck his head out, cocked it just to make sure he'd heard right. Yeah, that was definitely a moan. Maybe it was one of Sam's roommates or--

“Jesus, _Dean_.”

What the hell was going on? Was his little brother currently engaged in very adult activities with someone named Dean?

 _Come on, Winchester, that's a lame excuse even for you._ Dean was about to go knock on the door when the curtain to what he assumed was Sam's bedroom (he wouldn't know, he'd never been in it) fell back, giving Dean a perfect, unobstructed view of his brother. Sam was lying on his back on his queen-sized bed (how the hell he even fit on that thing was beyond Dean, but then again, they had both squeezed onto much smaller beds), wearing nothing but a pair of red and black boxers. His eyes were shut and his fingers were traveling down his body, stopping at random intervals to pinch, squeeze, and tease. His mouth fell open and another moan, louder this time, escaped, and holy crap. Dean needed to get out of there right now. His brother was about two seconds away from really kicking things off, and there was no way Dean could stick around for that and not do something. It didn't matter that they hadn't spoken in over a year. Dean's self-control was strong but it wasn't that strong.

“Jesus Christ,” Dean whispered, barely stifling a moan. He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth as he continued watching the scene in front of him play out, completely transfixed. He wanted to move, wanted to adjust himself, wanted to mirror Sam's actions, but he couldn't. Dean was frozen in place. Sam was...doing that...and thinking about him. What. The. Hell. Dean was surprised to realize that he knew very little about Sam, despite spending nearly every second of every day with him since his birth until Sam moved away. He never would've suspected Sammy was into guys, and certainly not his own brother.

His heart dropped rapidly into his stomach and Dean had to shake his head to clear it. No. No way was he doing this. He had no room to talk, really—he'd been thinking of Sam and getting himself off to thoughts of them together for longer than he'd care to admit, but this was different. He'd kept that secret, kept it locked and hidden away. Sam had never walked in on him or, worse, sat in a parking lot and watched him through the car.

He was so fucked up. The moans and pants coming from Sam's room were getting louder, and Dean had to grit his teeth to keep from reacting. He was getting the hell out of there before Sam came outside and found him. Dean was not prepared in any way, shape, or form for how that conversation would go, and besides, what would his defense be? There was no way he could come out of this not looking like a creeper. 

But. But. What if.

 _The hell is wrong with you, Winchester? What kind of big brother are you?_

Dean turned the car on, keeping his eyes focused on the dashboard and pointedly away from the direction of Sam’s dorm. He didn’t think twice, didn’t even look back before peeling out of the parking lot and slamming down on the gas pedal. He was way over the speed limit, even more so than usual, but he had to get as far away from the temptation he left behind in his rearview mirror.

Dean tried not to think about anything as he continued driving. He didn’t try to reassure himself, didn’t chastise himself. He didn’t do anything but drive. The destination didn’t matter, though Dean wanted to get at least an hour or two out of Palo Alto before he stopped for gas or a motel room. After that, he was going to find a bar and promptly get drunk out of his fucking mind. Like, blackout drunk if possible. Anything to get the image of Sam, half naked, skin flushed and perfect lips parted, little hurt moans escaping his lips. 

So, when all was said and done, what did the great Dean Winchester do?

He ran. He ran and never looked back. But he carried that memory of his Sammy around, buried it deep down with the exception of the nights when Dean missed Sam so much that he could hardly stand it.

Neither of them had any idea that fate was about to intervene and bring them back to each other once more.


End file.
